The Fate of the Great Sword
by James631
Summary: A battle lost in the pages of history in which people regard as legend. A battle of betrayal, lust, death, and fate. The day history lost sight of the greatest sword to ever be heard of. The story what fate had befallen onto the legendary sword Excalibur.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the DC characters or any others involving Arthur and his courts.

Since this story takes place long ago, it doesn't matter where I place it. Not part of my usual plotlines, yet.

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**The Fate of the Great Sword**

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Chapter One

For a Lover's Sake

They towered in the skies, he held in her arms, and both persons' eyes upon the horrid sight below. Both hearts weighing heavy for neither of them could do anything to stop what was happening. Her eyes were the first to break away from the evils below and stared at him. He refused to look at her for the shame at what his duty required of them.

"We can't allow this," she said.

"_We_ have no choice." His eyes locked onto the far below ground. "I have already told you. We have discussed this and we can't do anything to stop them."

"But the people." Her words trembling, with her eyes bearing the same pain of her heart.

"They were dead long before we came along."

"Please, let me do something," her words came out weakly.

Finally he looked at her. "I'm sorry."

She understood the reasons, but understanding made the situation no less easier to endure.

Her eyes along with her heart wept for them. And though he did not appear any different, she knew inside, he bore all the tears which his soul was shedding that his body could not. They both cried a thousand worth of tears, before the sight of what had to be grew to sickening to witness. She took him higher until both their eyes were shielded by the peaceful clouds of the heavens.

Never were they destined to see or play a part in the events of the yesterdays.

They marched, a hundred of her legions all converging onto it. Siege weapons and all, attacking the impenetrable fortress of Camelot. A place of truth and justice forged by good men and good people working together as one; as an example to the world. It was a marvelous kingdom, and all the more reason it was to hers to take and pass to her son, Mordrid.

She watched in darkness as her monsters fought on, the futile fight of taking the walls, waiting ever so patiently for her ace in the hole to strike. The wind grazed against her beauty and long black lashing hair as she sat upon her horse next to her son.

The boy stared at the carnages of their war against the nation. The lives being taken were nothing of importance. Just a means to an end for what he wanted most.

"When do I get my kingdom, mother?" he said every so lightly against the passion of his desires to rule this place.

Her heart was ever so devoted to her son, the one thing that was well in her life. And as she sat upon her horse, Morgan Le Fay knew it was her son's destiny to rule all of the Earth. It was a destiny that would begin upon the strength and fortitude of the great nation of Arthur's kingdom.

She drew her hand near the amulet upon her chest, feeling its warmth and power as it glowed with fires of magic. Morgan's eyes closed, as the power the amulet possessed coursed through her body, feeding her what she demanded of it.

"Soon my son," she said remaining still. Her power was great and as the sorceress revealed her green eyes upon the world once more, she paused feeling destiny at hand. "Very soon."

Morgan's line of sight stretched across the miles that separated her from the gates of the castle, at her minions and their failing attempts to breach them. They were strong, but Camelot was a powerful place and under the protection of a something Morgan Le Fay did not understand. Try as her forces may, attacking to get into the castle with brute strength was meaningless.

But as her numbers dwindled and beaten back, the sorceress knew all was well.

He ran with the animal passions of his body, dressed in full battle armor towards the place she needed him to be. Her voice and very being possessed every fiber of Jason Blood's soul. He wanted her and needed her, and for her, what he was about to do made for little in his inner self.

Though the calling of duty and honor for his country demand that he stop, Jason wouldn't listen. His body longed for her touch and to feel again the sensations of what she did to his heart.

He came across two men manning the gate. They were soldiers who were not really needed here as the strength of the protected gates would hold forever. All the same, the wisdom of Merlin demanded that men be posted at every entrance.

Under the cover of his helmet, Jason dared not to look at them. They were his brothers at arms and he would case their fates for the sake of his lover. His honor yanked at his heart, but his body and mind yanked harder for him to continue.

The pounding against the unbreakable doors shook the earth underneath, yet nothing could break through.

"The King needs you at the south tower," he lied.

They looked startled and confused.

"But the gates?!" one spoke.

It hurt to lie to them, but Jason had no choice. Duty kept him away from his lover, and was a duty that kept him in needing for such things for too long.

"I'll stand and guard them," Jason pointed with his sword. "Hurry!"

They did not hesitate. It was war, and when the king or a fellow brother of their needed them, they would go.

Jason watched them go and sighed lowly seeing that he was alone. Part of him wished they had stayed to stop him. He lifted his helmet off his face that bore a thousand sorrows than closed his eyes. How he wished for that he wanted most didn't need him to do these things against his country.

But she asked for them of him, and he swore for her love that he would give it.

With a heavy heart, Jason went to work to remove the obstacle in his lover's path. She was waging this war for him, to be with him. Against an entire kingdom, she went go to war with just to be with him. For that love, Jason would do this foul act of betrayal.

What more could a man ask of such love?

His strength struggled to removed the block that barred the doors. It would take that of three men to remove safely, but the passions of his body would yield to no such human limitations.

The block moved forward.

His heart shouted its final warnings, but Jason would not hear of it. Morgan Le Fay was waiting for him.

The wooden block fell and the pounding against the doors ceased. He backed away in both joy and disgrace as Jason waited for the reward of his deeds to come forward. She was out there, he could feel it. Just beyond the doors and past a legion of her unholy demons was his lover waiting to embrace him again.

The unbreakable doors opened effortlessly to reveal the army of monsters. Dozens taking in no mind to him, entered his King's home until finally Jason saw her. Powerful and as beautiful as ever, bathed in the darkness of the pale moonlight. Her garments of a soft blue and purple cloak that tugged to her body danced in the breeze as his lover walked ever so strongly to him.

"Did Arthur think that mere walls could keep us apart?" his lover asked with the sweetness that her firm voice could give.

Jason stood proudly at before his prize, his love, his destiny. The pain of his betrayal lost to the winds of her presence.

"Morgan, my love," he said. "Your beauty as possessed me."

When at last she was close enough, he took hold of her. "I have longed to hold you in my arms again."

Her eyes softly met with his, hiding the coldness that she truly felt for him and for all beings other than her son.

His self was enchanted by her as they both leaned in closer to one another. At last she was his and nothing could stop him from finally living.

Their lips etched in closer and Jason closed his eyes to taste her again, never seeing the true evil that revealed itself until it was too late. Her fangs bite next to his lips and her poison was unleashed within him.

"Uggh!" Jason fumbled back. He reached for his injured face, instantly feeling the evil spread across his face.

He looked at her with shock, until the pain consumed Jason's body and he fell.

"But," he looked at his lover. His heart aching with such a pain. "Why?"

She stared down at him, eyes and face as cold as the day he had first met her.

"For love of course," she said turning up and away from the insect. "the love of my son. Camelot's new ruler."

She parted from him, leaving a dying Jason broken hearted for the love that never was and for the deeds of his action against his country that haunted him so. His shame as he watched her go along with her army into the castle was unbearable.

A betrayal for a betrayer as he laid helpless. He grieved for his loss, more so that it took the falling of Camelot to finally see the coldness of his lover's heart. He had been warned once before of the woman's devilry and yet pursued her.

For his love, he carried now the shame and the deaths of thousands of good men and their families.

At least, as he laid his head down, her poison would save him from the life after this was all done. To never have to live to face the good King and men he betrayed.

The guards having been told by the King of no such need of them, returned, sensing a foulness that has befallen upon them. Though doubting such worries, they nevertheless came with reinforcements. Their brotherhood that they all shared in, hoped for the best and that it was simple mistake, but to the horror of their eyes, they discovered the truth.

"We are betrayed!"

Each of them saw Jason lying on the floor. They knew what foulness had taken place here. Their hearts and faith in their brother betrayed, the soldiers ran in defense of their homeland.

"For Arthur! For Camelot!"

The men charged towards battle and death.

Jason watched the men of his charge take to the fight knowing it was futile. He had brought about their deaths and the invasion of his homeland. It sickened him that he was the cause of such meaningless death and destruction, all for the sake of love.

_Not love you vile betrayer. Lust! And may you die with the shame of all those who bare the same feat such as yours!_, Jason said, mentally cursing at himself.

His head dropped to against the cold stone ground. Never would life or the sight of God save him from the unforgivable.

The world felt adrift, Jason knew death was upon him until he heard _him_.

"Art thou satisfied villain?" the old man asked.

Jason weakly raised head. Curse his fate to see this man at the hour of his death to berate him even further.

He walked towards the betrayer, clothed in garments that should not look so pure of white by the darkness of the world. But Jason bore no mind, only the the bearded face of the man of power did the man gaze upon.

"By this treachery, Camelot will fall this day," he spoke.

Jason ashamed of what he had done still had enough dignity from within to defend his dying self and his actions. What mere man could resist a love such as hers, even if it was falsely?

"You couldn't understand, Merlin," Jason desperately spoke. His body weakly trying to match the strong might of the wise one. "You are not a man, ever known the sweetness of a woman's kiss."

Merlin was unmoved. All that was brought forth, after years of struggling and waiting for a kingdom that would bring justice and tranquility, to all be brought down by a single man's lust. How fitting that history would repeat itself here, as in such a way of that which had befallen the first two beings of humanity.

How pained Merlin's creator was at the sin, much like the sin of Jason Blood's.

"A viper's kiss, Jason Blood," he began. "A kiss from a demon in human form." He looked at the battle surrounding them.

A dream sent by the Most High to be his, and that was for him to pursue.

A dream of peace for mankind and its multitudes to finally have.

A dream that was shattered into nothing because of one.

"All my great dreams are undone by thous tainted love," he spoke hardly.

Jason became angry. He hated this man, a man whose riddles and logic in ways of doing things he never understood.

Until today.

"I have paid for my crimes with my life. Is that not enough?"

"Nay!" Merlin looked at him angrily. "Such swift mercy is not for the likes of thee."

He extended his arms and it began to emerge from behind him. A portal to the dark world.

Though a being born of wisdom and powers from above to help mankind in shaping a better world, Merlin was still but a man. A man who knew anger, and a man who wanted justice.

"Thou art cursed, Jason Blood." The dark portal grew. "Until this monstrous deed is atoned."

The darkness touched him and a painful light emerged from Jason's body and flooded the world around them.

"To mark thou eternal shame, I hereby bind thy soul to a creature of the pit."

Merline pointed. "Look thy now! And see the face spawned of thy lust and see the face of thy condition! The face thy inner demon!"

Whatever was entering him hurt. Jason's very soul was on fire to its violation. He grabbed his head fearing of its breaking against the pain.

The pain of his burning self and of the poison that flowed through Jason from his lover gave way to a new kind of pain. A pain of another being what should never to present within him. A pain of a unholy demon.

"_Gone is the form of man_," a something voice from within Jason spoke. "_Rise the demon Etrigan_!"

Etrigan/Jason in his demon form was weakened from the transaction, and all too soon after looking at Merlin one last time had passed out.

Merlin looked away from his deed.

It was done and he would live with the shame of placing such a burden on a mortal soul. But as he walked away, his shame was far lesser than of Jason Blood.

It didn't matter now, the kingdom of good men was lost.

If anything that was left in doing, the man of power would confront the witch responsible for all of this and stop her from ushering a dark rule. He was powerful, but with such darkness now surrounding him, Merlin would undoubtedly be weakening.

The sorceress would be after one of two things, Arthur's sword and a stone that shared a similar power a magical entity could tap into.

Both of which, the man of power knew she must never have.

At least, he looked back at the unconscious demon/man, should he fall this dark day, the hurting hatred of a broken lover would follow the witch until the ending of Earth and keep Morgan Le Fay away from the things she sought.

"Such fates to fall upon us this day of good men," Merlin spoke. Such evil he saw coming and yet he could not stop it. An evil that managed to slip through the very cracks in the walls of Camelot. "What day of failure is this."

He failed in his fight for good men and he failed his made King.

_The King._

"Arthur," Merlin spoke.

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**To Be Continued...**

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I was inspired to write this story after watching "The Last Legion." I greatly admire the stories surrounding King Aurthur and thought to give it a go. And since the Justice League had a little story with Camelot, why not? Hope you enjoyed.


	2. Save What Honor We Have

Disclaimer: I do not own the DC characters or any others involving Arthur and his courts.

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**Chapter Two**

**Save What Honor We Have**

He came down from the air without mercy, armed with his twin blades, easily removed two demons' heads before his boots managed to make contact with the ground. Rising with swiftness, made possible now by the aid his pointy eared friend, the knight spun around extended outward and extinguished another two foes.

The demons of Morgan Le Fay were hardly the ideal specimens for talented swordsmanship and lacked in higher intellect to make for any sort of formidable opponents. They were strong and aggressive, easily able to tear a man in half but with skill were easy to overcome.

Tougher to kill than any human being was, but it could be done.

But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was, that there were so damn many of them.

The multitudes that the knight could kill made very little of a difference; there would always be more coming. By whatever unholy power Morgan used to summon them, the demons were countless in numbers. For one as brave and talented as Lancelot, he too had his limits.

He refused to yield.

In the hall, fire emerged from the battle around the conflicting powers.

Their lines were broken.

Lancelot head snapped to the left, another three were coming for him. Like a dance in his movements, the gallant knight sliced at the roaring beasts with one blade, delivering the death blow to each of them with the other. Their darkened blood spilled across the stone grounds of the castle, serving as a testament to their demonic existence.

_Such evil has spread across the grounds of Camelot. How will we ever recover? _

Thoughts of tomorrow appeared troublesome, but at the moment, were not needed. The line in this hall had to hold for however long it could. The last defensive arena before the Great Hall where King Author had taken position in.

A demon's roar singling the danger to the knight who dropped to one knee, crossing his swords together as a defensive shield towards the attack. Strong but slow, enough for Lancelot to draw one sword out and stabbed through the creature's gut. The demon took a moment to die and once it did, the only thing keeping its body vertical was the impalement of Lancelot's weapon.

Withdrawn, the body fell, revealing to the knight's unbelieving eyes a scorned man that he like so many believed to be dead. The sight shot an unease feeling up Lancelot's spin with a long forgotten fear towards a man of unparalleled rage.

Lancelot's shock was enough to send a smile upon the other man's scarred face. A man back from the dead. Whose presence here had no doubt played a part in this treachery against the kingdom.

"Guthor," Lancelot said darkly as he rose to his feet, his blades held at either side unopposed.

"You remember me, I'm touched." He reached and stroked lightly down the trailing old wound of his face. "I of course remember you, Lancelot. You gave me this scar to remember you by."

His red, now short hair pulled back away to reveal the new ugliness of his face. Of his blue eyes, his left was dimmed lightly as a result from the suffered wound, making his vision in it nearly nonexistent.

Lancelot's breath was nearing absence as he remained strong in stance. Even as the battle around him raged on and his men were failing, the knight could not fathom the sight that was set before him.

"No words to say to an old friend?" Guthor mockingly spoke.

"You should be dead."

"That's what I keep hearing and yet here I stand, old friend. And yet here I stand. No part short in thanks to your efforts."

Nothing about this day was making much sense and when all neared the point of insanity, fate reveals yet another of its bizarre twists to him. But it didn't take long for the knight to put the pieces together.

He lifted one of his swords and pointed at him. His anger outmatching his fear. "You did this, didn't you?"

"Among others, yes, I played a part in our lord's downfall."

"How? Why?!" Lancelot stepped forward in a heated rage. "How could you turn your back on your own country, Guthor?"

"Simple," he said with a pause as he looked at his fired scarred left hand. "When Camelot turned her back on me, it wasn't that difficult of a choice to return the gesture."

"What are you talking about? The king and all of Camelot loved you!"

He looked at Lancelot, peering all the rage and anguish of his soul at him. "And what did that get me, Lancelot? A broken body the witch now sustains and a home I can never return to. Do you have any idea what you have done to me?!"

"We didn't do this to you Guthor, you did. By your own selfish designs has _this_ life befallen you!"

Guthor huffed as he slowly moved both hands to his holstered long sword. "Perhaps you should have done what Sir Justin did long ago and disappear without a trace, Lancelot. It would have saved you from going down in the history books as the man killed for his betrayal of a friend."

"A betrayed man who betrayed a kingdom, Guthor," Lancelot shot back.

"Die!" Guthor howled and the weapon was drawn.

Lancelot readied for the coming attack, connecting his blades together once more and catching the attacking sword of Guthor's. It was a deadlock which neither were willing to give in to. Guthor was strong like no other and well rested since the battle began. Lancelot had strength and now a more advantageous speed thanks to the refitting of his attire by his friend in black. However he was tired from an already exhausting battle and the appearance of the long lost knight, Guthor certainly took its mental toll on him.

But like so many things that earned him the title of the Champion of Camelot, the warrior spirit within Lancelot refused to yield to no power of evil.

His long sword lifted and struck down again and again did Lancelot move to block. The process was repeated many times, forcing Lancelot back, absorbing the power of each and every attack. Against most, Guthor was a giant of a man and as such was a much stronger than any Lancelot had ever encountered; unwillingly admitting to himself at being unsure who the victor would be.

"This was always how it was going to end between you and me, Lancelot. You the king's favorite, and I, his forgotten lackey!"

Lancelot remained silent, while expertly blocking and making several swift counters to Guthor's ruthless attacks.

"You hated me didn't you, Lancelot? Hated me for being the king's best and yet his most feared vassal?" Guthor took a swipe at Lancelot's right, expecting to break through his defenses.

He didn't.

Lancelot moved quickly, dropping to one knee to avoid the incoming slicing attack. Without failing, he made for Guthor's right calf, cutting through armor and flesh with ease. A storehouse of power wasn't that threatening to Lancelot if it couldn't move.

"Ye-ahhh!" Guthor screamed before grabbing at Lancelot and held him in the air. His leg gave in and before long, he to was on one knee. "You little-"

Lancelot acted quickly, making several more swipes at Guthor's arms and back that forced the giant man to toss him away to recover. The knight landed roughly and rolled against the stoned floor behind Guthor. He was no more than a rage doll by the strength Guthor possessed now. Stopping and remaining on the floor, he looked to the backside of Guthor with heated breathes. Guthor was a knight once, like him, brave and bold. An agent of the king's good will. How could it be that such a noble of a man could turn so evil?

Could it be that if the roles were reversed that he, like Guthor could become so corrupted? So filled with hate and anguish that he could be loyal to no one but himself? To feel so abandoned by his brothers and king that he wished and fought for their deaths?

It all came to choices and thank God that Lancelot had not chosen to faultier in his loyalties to the Arthur.

Before his mind could question their two lives and current paths, her evil presence was felt as the knight snapped his head around to see the approaching Morgan Le Fay. The evil beauty responsible for all of this, stood before him with a cooled smile.

"The prized knight of Arthur's court, Lancelot."

The raw anger of defeat against an evil emerged within the knight as he came to his feet. "Witch of the demons, Morgan Le Fay. How dare you step foot in this holy place of Camelot!"

She smiled. "Holiness, Lancelot? A kingdom of good men they all say far and wide of you and your king."

His blades came at the ready. "Then you have heard justly so, demon witch. And you have tainted this land long enough with your evils!"

Lancelot knew of her magic, the blackest of kind. One that even Merlin feared, but no magic -no matter how dark- would frighten the knight from unleashing the light of justice upon it. He ran at her for an attack, swiping his blades in the air. He would have her head before this battle was through. For Arthur, for Camelot, for God himself; he would have this woman's life ended.

With a whisk of her hand, Lancelot was thrown back powerless against the might of magic. Falling to his armored knees, and weapons still in hand, Lancelot could feel the effects of such magic being used against him pound at the gates of his mind. His head hurt, but he made a quick recover and stared once more at the evil demon woman who had the nerve to remain smiling.

"What's wrong, Lancelot? Does not my feminine wiles not tempt you? Doesn't not my beauty cause you to ache for me?" Her hands moved as if to present the wonders of her female body.

"I can be tempted by no harpy with whatever form it chooses to mask in, witch!"

"Unlike the temptation you fell into with the king's wife, Sir Lancelot?"

Lancelot's eyes widened and his breath was stolen away with revealing of his secret sin by the enemy. His heart quickly felt the betrayal delivered to the trust of his good king that Lancelot believed he had long ago buried. His facial expression betrayed him, such a sight no doubt had served to only further pleased her. The honor of his name and of the courts, forever would be marked by his betrayal to the king. Whether Aurthur knew of it or not.

His sin, her victory.

"Oh, yes knight. I know of you and of the Lady." Her smile became sinister and a hated thing for Lancelot to see. "And they said that Camelot is- was a kingdom of good men."

The knight's body tensed and he growled with fury. He brought his weapons close to his chest ready to make the strike that would end this witch's cursed existence. Before he could launch himself at her, another anguished fury appeared in the form of Guthor, shouting with all of his hatred for Lancelot.

"Fiend!" Guthor screamed with his sword held above his head came down.

Lancelot though had many victories against impossible odds couldn't bare the fact that he had suffered a loss that would forever outweigh all that he had done in the name of good. He knew now that he, like Guthor had betrayed his king.

Instinct took over at his rival's shouting. Without though, he turned and stabbed both blades into the side of Guthor.

The man groaned to the unexpected blows. The blades of his enemy now in his body were just as shocking to him as they were to their owner. Breathing became difficult to maintain with the dropping of his sword. He cradled the two weapons' point of entry into his flesh.

He looked to his life provider Morgan who was uninterested in saving him.

Lancelot's breathing became uneven as he looked upon what he had done. He had just stabbed a man who was once a knight, a man who he once called friend. The knight couldn't believe his eyes, he never wanted to kill Guthor even upon the beginning of the battle. He wanted justice for him, to stop him. To disable him and by the grace of God, possibly save him. Never to kill him.

"Guthor...I-" Lancelot was speechless with his hands still holding onto his twin blades.

"You," Guthor grabbed Lancelot's hands and forced the blades further into his side. "You killed me, my friend."

He smiled at his own ending.

Guthor's eyes closed for the second and final time. Lancelot released his hold on his weapons. Time seemed to have stopped, Lancelot watched the man's body drop. For years they have fought together and for years they worked with the same goal in mind. They were as brothers, brothers in arms who shared many days of victory and sorrow together. It was by unfair chance that Guthor fell into the path of darkness. By some unseen force did the man fall from the once walked path of good.

"Guthor," Lancelot spoke.

They were brothers now, a story fitting the likes of Cain and Able as the knight gazed at his fallen friend.

The dagger slipped down from her sleeve and into Morgan's hand, bearing no feelings towards her enemies. Her eyes untouched by the level of emotion her foe displayed for his friend. Her heart knew nothing of pity or resentment for the world of pain she forced others to live.

And with one fatal motion, Morgan Le Fay stabbed at the back of Sir Lancelot.

Everything that led to this point was of Morgan's brilliant scheming, whether it was in her actual plans or not. Now she was rid of her annoyance with Lancelot's existence.

"Ghauh!" Lancelot shouted as he arched forward in pain. His body moved to escape from the blow, but she grabbed at his throat.

Whispering her final poisonous words to the dying man. Her words were unheard by all other than Lancelot who took them with him to the gave. She forced the dagger in Lancelot further with a fighting expression. Lancelot drew his last breath as the dagger pierced his heart and he left this world.

Removing her blade and returning it to its original placement, Morgan scouted around to see that the battle was indeed over and her demons had won the fight. Camelot belong to her at last, now to have her victory, one person remained. One person still left standing before the throne of Camelot and her son.

The King of Camelot himself, Arthur.

She summoned her minions and moved on to the final battle for control of Camelot. Her presences and that of many of her minions fled the chamber, there entered another. Her goals for herself and her son were at last coming into fruition.

His presence upon entry in the hall of dead men brought a light the demons shun their eyes upon. His eyes looked at them with such power that could have easily defeated them with but a stare. Then he looked at the fallen knights.

"How far has goodness fallen on this day, oh knights? How far must we fall before you realize what you have done?" Merlin closed his eyes and sensed the still unfinished story of the dead man. "Your tale does not end with your death here tonight, Lancelot. You will be called upon again."

The demons grew angered by the light that would not fade away. The man in the white robe would not leave them alone. They growled angrily and surrounded him.

Merlin's eyes opened and his powers unleashed against the agents of evil as the battle before the Great Hall was near in completion.

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**To Be Continued...**

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-It is when good men become invincible, that evil makes its breaking attacks-


	3. End of an Era

Disclaimer: I do not own the DC characters or any others involving Arthur and his courts.

In case anyone didn't pick this up, I love the knight's story or hero's story, however you want to call it. I see knights and King Aurthur as the greatest men of good men. Men who fought to build a good kingdom in a world filled with bad things. And don't let anyone tell you different.

For a fellow christian, this chapter is dedicated to Kirsten Erin.

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**Chapter Three**

**End of an Era**

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The round table chamber was filled with the unholy beasts of Le Fay. Axes and swords cut away at the table, reducing its glorified from into splinters. The few knights and soldiers remaining were slaughtered one by one. Still the resolve and strength of the good king Aurthur endured. In his possession, the great sword Excalibur shined brightly and with its thundering power struck down those who opposed it. Even the worst of creatures could not match him nor break the unbreakable.

The demons swarmed around him. Fending off as many as could be taken down with a single attack, Aurthur gave them all a spectacle of Excalibur's power. An opposed demon hammered down a short ax towards the king. The sword bloomed with energy when it made contact and sent a feedback the attacker who was sent flying back and crashed with two others who stood beside it. The energy continued to flow through the sword as Aurthur swiped through the lot of them.

"No matter how many times I see it, I am always amazed at what Excalibur can do my king," a knight in silver armor said before he cut away at a demon's head.

Aurthur stood firm as the gap in the lines of the attackers formed by him was filled. His brown hair displaying beads of sweat from the long battling. His youthful breaded face not baring a single wound or scar from them. If need be, his soul was prepared to do this forever.

He was fast and amazingly agile for what the armor weighted. Excalibur weight no more than his own hand did. No demon in the room was safe from Aurthur's righteous wrath.

"Amazing as it may be good knight, it is only through the strength of our unity that we stand a chance." Aurthur took a whirled round slice across them, removing yet another line of enemies.

The knight could the king's reasoning and agreed with it. If not for them, Aurthur would have to deal with the enemy from every corner. The battle would be against him even with such a weapon as Excalibur at his call. Even still the king was too modest when it came to the sword for without it, the numbers of the enemy would have overwhelmed them.

The admiration in the sword cost the knight in silver armor. His one second to gaze upon the displayed power of Excalibur was enough for a sharp edged blade to rise up and end his life. He fell quickly, as did three others. The sudden lost of more knights caught the king's attention who looked around at his dwindled lines and saw but only eight of his men remaining.

"Curse the likes of Morgan Le Fay!" the king shouted. He cut down another three before beginning a prayer in which the sword in his hand could only hear. With his words, Excalibur began to glow with a heavenly light. "Knights, defend me."

They did just that. The king withdrew from the front and the loss was filled as the Aurthur moved into the center of them. He pointed the sword to the ceiling while he continued his prayer. He held the handle with both hands as it warmed to the touch. The room filled with the sound of a rumbling thunderstorm to the coming power Aurthur had summoned. The world outside darkened to his request. The forceful weight of the power Excalibur was bringing strained the king's legs that fought to remain standing.

With a humming followed the sound of electrical power which spewed out of the blade.

"Now!" he declared.

The sword gave a metal ringing before the sound of power crackled and unleashed itself into the room. All sounds of the world was drowned out in that instant of silence. Spins felt ever nerve of the body sending warning signals to the brain. The force of the power was felt in Aurthur's legs, enough to crush the bones in them if not for the aid of the sword. To his eyes and the eyes of everything around, the sword unleashed its holy fury. A beam of light ran towards the ceiling pushing down on Aurthur and dazzled the lot of them. Its thundering roar spoke fear into even demon, knight, and the bearer of the sword.

A moment was all it took as the beam of white light fired in every direction with streams of shocking power, hitting every last enemy in the room. The attack was instantly fatal and incinerated the targets into smoke. When the room was clear of the demon horde, the beam searched for others that threatened it summoner before retreating back into the sword Excalibur.

The king's eyes were closed, his body had shifted as if to expect some force of nature to crash into him. He stood still, couldn't even breath. Couldn't believe such power.

"By all that is holy," a knight said speechless.

Others were too shocked to say or do anything but give a handed gesture of the cresafix. Aurthur stared at the sword and than at the skies outside that gave a final rumble as the great power of Excalibur no longer called upon it. None of them could do much of anything until a clapping caught their attention.

"Well done, Aurthur," she continued to clap. "A most _enlightening_ display of Excalibur's power."

"The demon witch," Aurthur said without emotion.

The knights came to arms once more for the fight.

Morgan walked casually into the round table room and was followed by a replenished number of her forces. They took position in the room and remained still until their mistress's call for action. To see the numbers of the enemy replaced so easily and suddenly dampened their tested spirits.

"Excalibur holds a power even I underestimated," she said coolly.

"A power you'll never have the pleasure of using, witch." Aurthur took his position at the front of his knights and squared off with Morgan Le Fay.

He would be defiant to the end, that much Morgan was sure of. It was so with every encounter with him. Of course Morgan still had one talent that made other men succumb to her will. She smirked and traced her figure downward with her hands, displaying her refined curves. Her body displays could send fire in a man's blood.

"Come now Aurthur. Every man has his price. What will your's be? To rule over the world at my side and bed for all entirety? You know I have the power to arrange it."

With the statement, Aurthur lowered the sword and laughed. His men followed.

"Do you think all men are bought so easily, Morgan? Your charming spells have no power over me. You obviously don't know what these halls of Camelot were made for. The good men here don't succumb to such likes of you harpies willingly."

"I don't know about that, good king. The same trickery got me through your kingdom walls."

His face turned bitter with the tightened grip around the sword. "And in these halls is where you will die. Your powers of persuasion have no effect on any of us so long as I have Excalibur."

It hurt to think that everything that had transpired with the last few hours of tragedy was breed through the deceit of one or several of his men. Aurthur didn't want to think about it, none of it would help now. The spells Morgan could conjure forward could cause him -if given a change to cast it- to break against the evil.

A sorceress at her best.

Morgan frowned as her proven method of persuasion was thrown back at her with mockery. She shouted with frustration and launched her magic at them. The sword glowed and with its heavenly tone forced back the demon witch's magic from him. It push Aurthur back as the cries of his knights told the king that his men would not survive it. The sword in his hands shielded him and protected as good knights of Camelot burned and vanish without a track before his very eyes.

"No!" His shout rang throughout the room.

She pressed the attack against him, eyes glowing with mystic powers. The sword resisted but the force of magic caused Aurthur to fall back in footing. He grunted before he began yet another prayer. Against the force of her magic, Aurthur pointed the sword towards the witch.

He called out to heaven above and with it, the sword glowed with an anger. It pulsed with power and fired a beam of light that cut through the magic of Morgan Le Fay and struck her.

The witch cried out and her magic ceased. She fell to her knees in agony with her hands pressed against her injured face. Her wails were answered by her demons who turned and attacked Aurthur will no success.

Morgan's breathing deepened, focused with anger. Her beautiful face, how it burned. Ruined.

"Hahhh!" Aurthur shouted with a horizontal strike at a demon. The demons were of no concern but were simply too much for Aurthur to address the posed danger. Morgan grew quiet and still yet to move since falling to her knees.

"My face..." Morgan gave but a whisper as one hand fell firmly to the ground. Her magic traveled smoothly against the floor, under the many feet and corpses unseen by the king.

"My beauty..." she cried with a whisper. "You ruined me."

The talisman necklace glowed.

The demons were jumping at him, he turned to cut them down and turned again to the many foes who refused to let up. The sword glowed with white light and burned those opposing near it. Aurthur was relentless but blinded by the magic that formed behind him into a mystic blade. It stabbed through him and his heart. Aurthur gasped and eyes widened to the assault. No flesh was harmed, but the very life in him was cocking.

"Its finished, Aurthur," Morgan stood up, still shielding her face with hand. The ugliness of her face was clear enough to see. She yielded her minions as Aurthur stabbed the sword in the ground to support him. "Your dying one way or another and all of Camelot belongs to my son now. Along with the philosopher stone and with that the source of the sword's powers. Why not make it easy for yourself and just handed it over?"

Aurthur gasped as he leaned on the sword to support his body upright. He could do little as life drained from him. "Witch, you know nothing. This sword is powered by something far more than some stone of legend. Should I die on this day, neither of them will be yours."

"I bed to differ, Aurthur."

"Forged in Heaven's light..." he began with a heavy breath. "Made with the strength of virtue..." Aurthur raised his wearing body and sliced through the air with the sword. With it, a fisher of light opened up for all to see. "I call upon its return...until someone worthy of its power comes forward, Excalibur shall remain safe from the hands of the unworthy."

"No!" Morgan cried as her magic sprang forward. "Stop him!"

The demons charged. Aurthur, with his last remittance of strength chucked the weapon into the fisher sealing and secured the fate of the greatest sword in existence.

Morgan couldn't believe it. She had come so close to it that she could taste her victory. In her rage she attacked Aurthur with her magic. Aurthur was hit and the life that was in him ceased. His body fell to the floor with the demon hordes preparing to feed upon it. A small constellation she figured. If anything that would come from her wounds was that Aurthur, one of Morgan's pains in her side was dead. Camelot was hers now and was to be given to her son at last.

The moment was crushed with the scene of his arrival.

He walked silently into the room of cheering demons. His presence became known to Morgan as her demon hordes became silent and ripped with fear of the light Merlin gave off. They dared not to near the body of the great king.

"Have you no decency as to give a great king a worthy death, Morgan?"

She cringed at his voice.

"Merlin," Morgan hissed.

"And now you stand in the halls of the great kingdom of men, dishonoring everything it stands for."

"Stood for, old man." Morgan turned around. "Camelot is mine now."

Her hand came down from her face. Skin was rotten, charred with no lips to shield her teeth from being exposed from all angles. No skin covered her eyes and the easily heard breathing from a formless nose. Nothing remained of her once proud beauty.

His unfeeling eyes sent nervous chills down Morgan's spin.

"Your a relict, Merlin," she said mustering her courage. "An old thing trying to accomplish the impossible with men." She fired off her magic at him.

Merlin swatted the attack away effortlessly as it approached. "You've learned nothing, Morgan."

With one quick gesture of hand movement, Merlin unleashed his power and it felt like fire to Morgan Le Fay's body. She howled as it ate at her flesh. Her magic was useless to aid her.

"Stop it! Stop it!" she tried to fight back his attack, but collapsed to the floor. She tried and tried until the talisman around her shattered into pieces.

"Nay, harlot. Demon magic will not help you." Merlin continued to attack.

Her body burned and the youth of the body was being stripped away.

"Your true form, evil one. Old, hag, broken." Merlin continued until...

A sharp cold found its way into Merlin's back. His eyes widened and his attack on Morgan ceased. His breathing turned quickly into a struggle. Morgan turned to her attacker confused as to why she was suddenly freed from her torment. To the demon woman's surprise, her salvation from Merlin came from Mordred who smiled as he held the dagger in the old man's backside.

He turned and glared at the boy with the smile. Another wretched thing of evil made in human form. To what ends did Morgan want to go?

Her body smoked and the air around her roared with the stench of burnt flesh. Her maimed face gave a twisted smile.

"That's a good boy, Mordred."

Mordred ran to her mother's side.

"Mother?" he asked to the unfamiliar face now present on her body.

Morgan said nothing to him. Only stared as Merlin gradually fell to his knees.

"Nothing to say, Merlin? After all you planned against me, you finally lost." Morgan said as she felt the damage done to her face with her fingers. "You deserve nothing less."

His body felt cold. Such a fate to such a great kingdom. To be built on the strength of good men to be ruled by a demon. That, the man with power would not allow.

Merlin's body began to glow white, losing all its features.

"What is he doing, mother?" Mordred asked childishly.

Morgan's eyes shot open wide. "Mordred!" She summoned her magic to envelop her son and herself.

Merlin no longer had form as the light grew and shook the foundations of the kingdom. Morgan darted out the windows with her son in tow. Her demon minions whined in pain as they were consumed as was the round table room and eventually the castle was well. The light continued until bursting with destruction. The shock wave of such force crashed through the surrounding structures and all of Camelot was consumed by it. When it was over Morgan Le Fey found herself standing on the very spot she began this battle at with her son. The kingdom of her conquest that stood proudly -even under siege- had vanished.

Coming out of this war, Morgan lost more than she every imagined as she felt across her damaged face. She gave an attempt to heal it, but knew the pointlessness of it. Merlin had destroyed her beauty. She wanted to cry for the loss but that ability was no longer in her power to do.

"Where is it, mother? Where is my kingdom?"

Morgan cupped her hands near her face. They glowed with her magic and with came forth a mask of golden beauty. Her heart hardened even further with the defeat.

"Not here, Mordred." She placed her new face over the old. "Not here."

"But where is Camelot?"

"I don't know. But where ever it may be, I am at last rid of Merlin and his pawn Aurthur." She turned away, tattered clothes whisked along with the wind. "Come my son."

The armies of her call disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. In seconds a new clothing covered Morgan's body. Her magic was exhausted for the day. Another time she assured herself. Another time and another place would her conquest be realized. With no foe remaining that could stand in her way.

Another phase of existence, that's where Merlin brought Camelot. A hazing pocket place outside normal reality. There the old man healed his wounds knowing his time on Earth was short. He walked to the body of the fallen king.

"Oh, my poor boy..." he knelled down and took Aurthur in his arms. "My boy...my king."

He weeped for the man. So great a man whose heart knew only virtue and ruled with a righteous hand. Merlin had watched over him since the king's youth. Watching, praying, doing what was necessary to make him the man he was. What he is.

A light appeared behind them but he didn't care to pay mind. Eyes closed with tears pouring freely from them.

"Never easy is it? To lose such people as him?" she placed an easy hand on his shoulder. "It never is easy to lose any of them."

He stayed quiet for the longest moment before asking: "Why are thou here?"

"He never leaves anyone, especially when they are hurting." She watched as the tears fell onto the deceased man.

"Why has thou arrived now when all is lost?" He turned to gaze at her dark complexioned face. A larger woman whose expression was filled with a comforting glow.

"I'm sorry for what has happened, but I warned you of this. You became too eager at building this kingdom of virtue. In a world of darkness, it was a flame the enemy had to extinguish."

Merlin laid the king down. "Than all is for not. This fight for good no longer matters."

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that."

"What is the point of this weary battle?" he fell to the floor defeated. "Even when thous protectors are finally ready, many hard trials await thee in an eternal war."

"A war worth the cost for _their_ sake, Merlin. He will not abandon them."

"Hmm..." Merlin looked at the floor and King Aurthur. It saddened him greatly and was certain his heart would never recover. The man was just as any son to him as any blood ties could be.

He stood and remained silent in this thoughts.

"I will never understand Him."

"Nor will I, but that makes Him all the more wondrous to us."

The old man walked away with a smirked on his face. She was right of course. No one could understand the plan at hand, but the journey there never promised an easy road.

"Merlin?" she asked softly. "You need not to return back to the world. You have done enough already."

Merlin stopped.

"Nay," he sighted. "There are still many tasks at hand for thee to finish. With the sword safely beyond her reach the demon wont rest until she has the philosopher's stone."

He turned to her with a smile. "And thou can wait a while longer Alli. At least until meeting your guardians....your protectors of humanity."

Merlin faded out of the hazed world to the normal realm to finish his remaining tasks. Alli returned the smile as she felt the old man's spirit heal. When she looked at the fallen king and his men, she took it upon herself to give them the proper burial suited for a king of greatness. Like David many times before him, King Aurthur would go down in history as one of the great kings of virtue.

* * *

The End

* * *

-Hail King Aurthur! Long live the king! Hail King Aurthur!-


End file.
